


Unpredictable

by MangoBait



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: Action, Adventure, Completely Off Canon, F/M, Fallout Dungeons and Dragon Style, Romance later to come, Tie in to other MangoBait plots, more tags to come, roleplaying, table top game gone story mode
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:52:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7862497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MangoBait/pseuds/MangoBait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Radiation was a bitch. The effects of radiation were even worse. But the worst was having synthetics tied to your body just because some ass holes at the Institute thought it would be 'interesting' to see how a ghoul would withstand their constant experimentation. For Ellie Thomas, this was her reality. Or, to be more honest, it HAD been, before she broke out along with a handful of other synths who were capable of free thinking. </p><p>But that was over half a century ago. Eight years have passed since the Lone Wanderer restored Project Purity, and two more years still have to pass before the Sole Survivor wakes from her chilly slumber. But that's alright, Ellie has found that she has more time than she knows what to do with. Cheers to being a synthetic infused ghoul, right? But it's not all sunshine and rainbows. </p><p>After taking a string of odd jobs, she lands herself one that she can't heal herself from. Having no other option, she is forced to seek shelter in the one place ghouls should never tread. What turns from a sliver of hope into a life of slavery quickly lands her in a Wasteland adventure she was never prepared for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back Doors and Subway Tunnels

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Bit of a strange tangent from what I'm used to doing. Meet Ellie Thomas, a character I created for a table top roleplaying game that takes the best from Dungeons and Dragons and Fallout. Three of my friends and myself are running a campaign... which, so far, has been a ton of fun. I wanted to share our story with you, and to do that, meant I had to write it all out from my character's point of view. 
> 
> There will be some canon plot points and quests and some familiar characters will show up too. But a lot of the plot is a 'as we go' type of thing. Beyond what I write, I usually don't know what's going to happen next. Because of this, I take no credit for anything aside from Ellie. She's mine, but the rest really really isn't. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Thanks for dropping by.

The device felt cold and clumsy, unfamiliar, as she turned it this way and that in her leather gloved hands. Even in the dim light she could make out the small red flashing button that blinked on and off in the corner, watched idly as the gears that were just barely visible rotated along the sides. “How you are going to get me into Tempany Tower, I have no fucking idea,” she muttered under her breath. “But anything is better than wasting away out there in the heat.”

Her footsteps were audible, echoing endlessly off of the concrete walls that dwarfed her on either side as she made her way through the tunnel system buried beneath the Tower in question. A gentle breeze occasionally caressed her molted cheeks, rustled the soft tawny fabric of her hood hinting at the overall structural integrity. “Or lack thereof.” Her voice had the eminence of gravel with a lilt of a tinny quality dancing underneath. It wasn’t uncommon for ghouls to sound as if they were chain smokers, but the extra added flavor of metallic undertones made her unique. Whether or not that uniqueness was a blessing or a curse was still up for some serious debate. She still wasn’t quite sure herself.

Somewhere in the distance she could make out the distinguishable sound of water dripping, splashing without a care into a puddle out of eye shot. The scurrying of fuck knows what accompanied the tune, setting her teeth on edge, making her hair stand on end. You would think that, after a century of living in the Wasteland, one would become accustomed to the shit that goes bump in the night (or, in this case, in the ‘subway’) but that is where you would be wrong. That hundred years of experience did nothing but reassure her that staying on your toes is what kept you alive and that dismissing anything and everything resulted in nothing more than your inevitable end.

And, likely, not a quick nor painless end either.

So, yeah, she was going to remain cautious. She had already cheated death more times than she could count… and everything up until this point would all amount to flipping diddly squat if she ended up adding to the tally by falling to some feral ghoul or molerat. How pathetic would that be?

Answer: pretty pathetic.

She felt a sense of reassurance as she equipped the pistol from its holster on her hip. It felt solid, it grounded her, engulfed her with a petty fake lie of protection as she made her way deeper into the tunnel. If she was being one hundred percent honest, she knew the gun would do little against bigger foes such as deathclaws or yao guai… but, seeing as it was quite literally the only weapon she had at her disposal, it wasn’t as if she was chalk full of options at this point.

“Fucking Moira Brown, fucking ‘It won’t be that bad, it’s just some robots, and it’s just a quick installation’.” She rolled her silver laced eyes though the action held no humor. “Yeah, right. You’d think you’d learn the first few times she sent you on a suicide run, but nope, dumb ass, you kept falling for it. Idiot. Anything for the caps, right?” Stupid, complete and utter stupidity, at its finest, practically legendary.

“And now where are you?” she continued, speaking to herself since there clearly wasn’t anyone else to share the conversation with. “Some freaky ass, spooky as hell subway system trying to find a way into Tempany Tower, the last place a ghoul such as yourself should go. But, oh, that’s right! We are fresh out of alternatives since the doctors at Rivet City aren’t ever gonna see you since the jackass guards aren’t going to let you in, no matter how much you pay them.” Finally, in a mocking tone, she added, “Damn ghoul, your kind ain’t allowed here.” With a snort, “What else is new?”

But her wounds were serious. Though, Moira had been correct that getting _into_ RobCo Facility would be a cinch, that was where easy mode ended. Upon installation of the processor widget, all the robots in the building decided she was suddenly the bane of their existence. Guess that was what ‘Total Liquidation’ meant – as in, liquidation of every fucking thing in sight (including her, in case that bit wasn’t crystal clear). Sure, the radroaches and molerats were also incorporated into that count but they were nothing more than irritating pests when compared to the laser shooting, pincher wielding, saw carving components of the automatons that wanted to melt her face off.

Now she was decorated with a variety of purplish bluish bruises, and her fair share of ‘no biggy’ to ‘oh shit that’s not good’ sized lacerations and cuts. In short, she wasn’t doing too hot. In long, she needed a doctor and she needed one _fast_. Stimpacks and Med-X weren’t gonna do jack for this.

However, the front gate was out of the question – she would be turned away without a second glance regardless of her condition. So, when a wondering fellow ghoul tossed the little device she now carried in her general direction with a “That will get ya in the back door”, how could she refused? “Then again, now that I’m _really_ thinking about it, like _really-really-REALLY_ , I’m realizing that maybe I had been just a tiny bit too lucky. As in, too good to be true.”

And that scurrying sound behind her wasn’t doing anything to make her feel comfortable.

As she rounded another bend in the path, being careful to hop over some fallen debris from the rail car that hadn’t been used in centuries, she saw salvation ahead…. Well, salvation with a dark sense of humor tucked away. Sure enough, a door greeted her, a door she assumed was the ‘back door’ her ghoul buddy had mentioned. But it looked hella locked, super-duper fortified, and she highly doubted how effective simply knocking and kindly asking if she could come in would be.

Spoiler alert – that wouldn’t work. Not now, not ever.

“That where you come in, little guy?” she asked the thing in her left hand. “Not sure how you work though.” She closed the distance to the door, skimming her palm along the very obviously steel surface. “Don’t want anyone sneaking in, huh, Mr. Tempany?” she cooed. “Specially not a lil ol’ ghoul like me?” Oh, it was going to be fun bursting his bubble.

Glancing down at the device once more she flipped it over so she could peer at the back. The combinations of compartments and wire bits made her head hurt and she couldn’t even begin to figure out how it worked… But then again, science and techy-techy bull shit had never been her forte, no point in starting now. “He said to just put it on the door… Sounds hinky to me buuuut…” We covered the ‘options’ bit already (ie. none). So… “Here goes nothing.”

Dong as she had been instructed, she pressed the back against the paneling, crossing the synthetic fingers on her right hand for shits and giggles.

One second went by… two… three…

Nothing.

All it did was continue to spin, the gears rotating lackadaisically without a fucking care in the world.

“You piece of sh-!”

The device clicked, humming as it powered up. “Oh, maybe I take it back.”

The door still wasn’t budging, not even a little. Perhaps it took time? Perhaps this was one of those things you had to be patient for? Right, because she had shloads of that just waiting to be utilized. She scoffed.

And it seems she wasn’t the only one who was done with waiting.

The scurrying grew louder, capturing her full attention. She pivoted on her heels, pistol raising as she shoved the barrel in the direction of the sound. “You done tip toeing around me?” she asked the dark void that stretched out back towards the way she had come. Not like she was going to actually get an answer but, ya never know. Worth a shot. No pun intended.

The ground broke at her feet as two fleshy colored molerats erupted from beneath the surface, jaws snapping and teeth pointed, glistening in the soft glow of the lamp above her head. “Seriously? I’m this close and this is what I have to deal with? These fuckers?” She groaned inwardly and lowered her arms, the pistol limp at her side. Not even worth the bullets.

That was the thing about molerats – they sure put on one hell of a show, a great display of fearless power as they snarled and gurgled and swat with their little tiny arms and swished their tails… but, for real? They were molerats, and they died like molerats.

Which meant this would be inanely easy.

As one of the little shits moved to lunge at her, she swung her foot back… and slammed it forward, careening the tip of her steel-toed workers boot into the gut of the molerat that had been foolish enough to launch an all-out attack on her. It shrieked in protest before skittering down the corridor and out of sight. “Ooooh, so scary. I’m quaking in my boots,” she snarled as the second rat targeted her... only to meet the same fate as his friend (side note, do molerats even have friends? Co-worker, maybe? Tunnel mate? Whatever, what the fucking ever).

She rubbed the space between her brows with a dirtied finger. “Well, okay then. Thanks boys. Been real fun. Don’t come back.” Scratching behind her ear, she swayed on her hip, repositioning her weight as she glanced over her shoulder. Door? Progress? “Nothing. _Swell_.”

Hefting her pack from her shoulders, she deposited the sack against the cement wall beside the door, kneeling down to unzip it. “It’s alright, I got time. I’ve got _plenty_ of time, trust me on that. More time than you do, door. Not that you could care since, you know, you aren’t _real_. Big shocker. But seeing as we are now partners in crime, you and I, might as well get cozy with one another.” She plopped down to the ground, resting her back against the paneling, rolling her shoulders to work out some of the tender muscles. Unwrapping the pack of Fancy Lad Cakes, she popped one into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed before continuing. “And we _are_ partners in crime, mind you. Breaking and entering, that’s punishable in some places here. I found that out personally. Sure, _I’m_ the one that’s doing the breaking but you’re just chilling there, allowing me to enter. So really, when you look at it that way, who is the one to truly blame?”

Talking to herself had become a bad habit, and one that was proving ridiculously tricky to break. Granted, when no one else in the shit hole known as the D.C Wasteland would bother to even offer a sideways glance in your vicinity, you had to do something to prevent sheer insanity from taking over.

“Or, just maybe, I’m already there and don’t know it yet. You think you would know if you were crazy?”

The door didn’t respond. _Typical_.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”

 She allowed the silence to consume her as she slouched, dragging her knees up till they were propped in front of her, head lolled back against the metal. It felt cool on her heat-roasted skin. Some people thought that ghouls had a natural resistance to the sun and its incessant need to scorch anyone caught in its mighty rays. They were wrong. Like polar opposite end of the scale from right.

Her silvery eyes closed briefly, nose flaring from underneath the black cloth she used to cover her face as she drank in the smells of the subway tunnel. It smelled heavily of mildew and mold, of moisture and residue. Every surface she touched had a layer of slime, a layer of shit she didn’t really want to question where it came from or what caused it. Some things were better left in the ‘unknown’ category, and this was certainly one of them. Still, this place was better than some of the others she had been in. As far as she knew, the subway was at least devoid of cannibals, so that was a major plus.

She wasn’t really in the mood for running away from people who literally ate other people. Been there, done that, bucket list got a check mark. Didn’t ever, repeat EVER, need to go through that adventure again. So much nope that she was riding the Hell Naw train to Fuck-That-Vill. _No_.

Something moved down the path, pulling her out of her headspace. “Back for more?” she bit out around a mouthful of cake and frosting. “Didn’t learn your lesson last time? Need another round of education? Professor Ellie, open for business, ass-wipes.”

Pressing her fingertips against the grimy ledge, she pushed herself up into a standing position, depositing her partially eaten sweet treat inside the lip of her bag. “I’ll come back for you, don’t you worry,” she promised, rubbing the sticky crumbs on her cargo pant leg. She snatched her discarded pistol, and double checked that the cartridge was full. It wasn’t. But that’s what miracles are for, right? One of these days, she would have more bullets than she knew what to do with.

Today just wasn’t that day.

The sound grew closer as the little beasties inched nearer. “Hope you brought more pals this time,” she snarled, taking a few steps away from the door as the device continued to work. Seriously, did it have to communicate to the mother-ship before processing anything? Had the ghoul given her a dud? What the fucking _hell_?

“At least I can kill a few more molerats to pass the time,” she mused.

Or, well, that would have been the case if the sounds _belonged_ to molerats.

They _didn’t_.

Not even close.

Like, not even in the same family of disgusting enemy ‘close’.

What she saw instead made her blood run cold, her heart rate accelerate to dangerous levels, and her breath lodge in her throat as she sucked an inhale of air in between her teeth.

“You aren’t a molerat,” she whispered, arms faltering as they lowered in the slightest, the gun point no longer zeroed in on her target.

Which was poor aiming mechanics…

_Not the point_.

Clawing its way out of the shadows was a centaur, hands groping blindly for holds as it dragged itself into the illuminating circle of light. Its jaws gaped open, tentacles spewing from within to taste the air, to savor the tang of her fear and adrenaline as they poured in unison through her veins. Its body was a mess of parts and pieces, making it difficult to distinguish where one body started and the next began. Each step made her gut wrench, her legs tremble; each sluggish maneuver in her direction made her cringe away.

Acid oozed from its parted mandibles, pooling around the centaur as its beady eyes snapped towards her own. It blinked, mindlessly, head tilting from side to side as it observed her. _Shit, fuck, hot cakes, Christmas cookies, get me out of here!_

Centaur’s themselves weren’t a huge threat, not really. But… they weren’t the ones you had to watch out for. See, they never traveled alone. Usually they worked on the buddy system… where the buddy could be either another centaur… or worse, a _supermutant_. And due to the lovely little well-known fact that her current health condition was piss-poor at best and outright unmaintainable at worst, now was not the time for any sort of super-mutie trouble.

_Fuck no._

“Shit, you better open soon!” she begged the door, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “I take back all the nasty comments about us being partners. I’ll take the blame, all of it, just open! _Please_!” she couldn’t hide the frantic tone in her voice, couldn’t conceal the sheer terror that spiked through her core.

If this door… If this door didn’t open…

She would be royally screwed.

She was as good as dead.

 


	2. Your Safety is in Another Tower

Well, to say that today wasn’t going as planned would be the understatement of the century. “Ya know,” she started, pressing her spine against the cool confines of the metal infused door as the centaur closed in on her, “All I wanted this morning was to wake up, do some fucking task for Moira, and waltz my gorgeous ass back to Megaton to earn some caps. Pretty easy. Pretty straightforward.”

The monster’s mandible opened and poured forth a plethora of tentacles, glistening in the dimly lit air. Saliva oozed from the corners of its jaw, seeped along the grimy, dirt encrusted subway tunnel. It didn’t bother with a reply. Then again, she never really thought it would.

“But instead? Instead I get to be buddy-buddy with you,” she snarled, fingers curling into tight fists at her side. “I’m not saying that you aren’t a catch, I’m sure you throw _great_ house warming parties… but, to be frank with you, you really aren’t my type, and you’re coming on a bit strong. Real turn off, that is.”

_Door? Hello, door? Ellie to door? Anyone home? You going to open?_

The door moaned, shuddered on its hinges… but so far? No luck.

“Fan-fucking-tastic. This team work think really isn’t meshing well, is it? I want a new partner.”

The device wasn’t working, not yet. That meant she had time, and she wasn’t the best staller when it came to life or death situations. But staying in her current ‘deer in the headlights’ pose wasn’t doing her any favors either. Which meant she really only had one option: fight. Not a wonderful plan (if you could even call it that) but it was better than sitting there with her thumb wedged up her arse.

The centaur seemed to be along the same mindset as it reared its head back, snorting and sputtering as it unleashed a noxious cloud of poison and slime. Ellie cringed, side stepped, and hissed in a pain filled breath as the goop matted against her brown cloth coat, seared her left shoulder. Better than a full-on hit but, _fuck_. Radiation made her skin peel (okay, peel more than the norm for her), and brought with it a fresh sizzling, scorching sensation. Her eyes watered at the stench that poured from the beast’s gaping jaw, as it choked out all other sensations, made her head swim with nausea. Her stomach heaved, and she began to regret the molerat stew she had eaten for lunch.

Nothing like the smell of a three hundred year old rotting corpse that _was_ left out in the sun _way_ too long drenched with a heaping dose of raw meat to wake you up.

“Sheesh, dude, toothpaste,” she managed to bite out through parted lips, raising a hand to press it flush with her nose, inhaling the cured leather scent of her glove in a desperate attempt to clear her mind. The world danced around her vision, blurred around the edges. She blinked hard, squeezed her eyes shut momentarily. People had died on centaur gas alone… and she really wasn’t interested in adding to that tally.

Being too close for ranged combat, she unleashed her brass knuckles. Shoving off the wall, she launched forwards, landing a blow or two against the flank of her adversary. It shrieked, cried out in agony as blood began to cake her fingers. It was like tar, sticky and thick as it coated her palms. _Bath, going to need a bath._

She gasped, shifting back as it attempted to swipe at her knee caps. One of the many arms that the centaur used to move about with swung for her in a mad dash to knock her off balance. “No, no,” she whispered, stumbling to the side several steps before regaining composure, arms outstretched. “Pay attention,” she chastised herself, eyes flashing with anger. Using the momentum, she pivoted on her heel and whipped her leg around with her, the synthetics laced with her muscle gifting the action with an extra boost of strength and agility beyond that of a normal ghoul. Her foot connected with one of the centaur’s elbows; her lips curled up into a grin of pure satisfaction as she heard the fragile bone fracture under the pressure.

The resounding howl was deafening, careening off the sides of the tunnel system in attack all of its own. She winced, jamming her hands against her ears, nose wrinkled. “Fuck, are you serious?”

But when the centaur turned to meet her gaze… any further witty comment died on her tongue.

Play time was over.

It lunged at her, arms and legs swinging haphazardly, no longer trying to aim as its focus switched gears to simply doing as much damage as possible. Adrenaline spiked through her system in return, giving her a much needed burst of energy. Her heart rate galloped into overdrive as she dodged and weaved, bobbed out of the way of the blows. Her breath was frantic, frenzied and coming in quick puffs, her face pale, drained of color.

She yelped as one of the monster’s feet succeeded to collide with her hip, sending her sprawling to the tunnel floor in a pile. The base of her skull ricocheted off the cement, made a sickening snap. Heavy clouds loomed over her eyes, the light dimming. Her head throbbed, pounded like the thunder in a radiation storm. Her breath lodged itself in her lungs, too terrified to venture out of her safety body. Every movement, even the tiniest twinge of her fingertip resulted in a wave of pure unadulterated torture, leaving her dizzy and lightheaded. Prying her eyes open only allowed her to witness her doom beginning to crawl towards her.

If she didn’t react, she was going to be this thing’s next victim. And she doubted it would finish her off in the painless kind of way either.

Dong her best to blatantly ignore the way her brain adamantly pleaded her not to proceed, she flipped onto her stomach and scrambled on hands and knees away from the centaur and further away from the Tower entrance. She had only managed to make it a few mere feet before gnarled fingers gripped at her ankle and dragged her back. The rough, jagged edges of the concrete burrowed into the soft skin of her abdomen, tore at the fabric that protected her and formed her armor. She wiggled and kicked, hands outstretched towards everything and anything as she was pulled against her will towards the monster.

_Fuck, no, no, no!_

She felt its grip move to her calf, her knee, her thigh, sharp razor-like nails clawing at her, piercing through her pants. It hurt, it _burned_ beyond imaginable as acid eased into her flesh. “I said… you weren’t… my… type,” she repeated, voice lacking any sort of confidence as she twisted around, back to the ground. Terror was beginning to sink in, beginning to take over.

Oh Gods, and the sounds the centaur made as its prey moved closer and closer. Guttural, grating, groans, smacking jaws, the slap of the tentacles planting against the tunnel walls. It gagged on its on spit, coughing and spitting splatters of it down on her, drenching her coat.  

She swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat. She had to switch gears…

Raising her booted foot she rocketed her heel downwards, her target the brittle and fairly breakable bony wrist that belonged to the hand fastened around her leg.

It was pulverized, rendered to powder on contact. The shock jarred her own senses but not enough that she couldn’t squirm free.

The centaur cradled its mangled limb, growling and writhing in the process. She scampered onto her feet, fists in front of her in a defensive stance. “Can’t keep this up,” she warned herself. “Not by yourself.” Too bad she didn’t have any friends… ha, what were those again?

The beast swiveled towards her, pulling itself together to continue the fight.

“Okay, self, what’s the plan? What are we doing?” she muttered, steel eyes flickering back and forth. Makeshift weapon, defensible cover, cute and cuddly teddy bear, something! There had to be _something_!

Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.

Nothing but the damn open door.

She blinked.

Wait.

_Open_.

“It’s open?”

Without pausing, without hesitation, she raced for it, booted feet thudding heavily against the concrete as she dove for the door. She stumbled as she passed through the threshold, tripping over the metal ledge that separated the tunnel from the tower. Her feet knotted up underneath her, her shoulder connected with the wall along with the side of her face.

But that didn’t stop her. Not when the centaur was right on her heels, tentacles already clinging to the framework.

Hurtling off of the plaster, she sprinted down the adjoining corridor, fingers grazing the floral patterned wallpaper as she passed, gaining speed. _Get to a safe spot, use a stimpack. Get to a safe spot, use a stimpack._

And judging off of how close the centaur sounded, here was not said safe spot.

The hallway opened up into a larger room. She just barely made out a counter of sorts with a man seated behind it as she entered. “Hi!” she greeted, offering a half-assed decent-ish attempt at a wave. ‘Security’ was just legible above the desk as she sped past it, gripping the corner with her hand and vaulting out of the room as quickly as she had arrived. “Bye!”

“What the-“ she heard the man proclaim but she was already at a set of stairs before she could make out the rest, losing his voice as her heart pounded in her ears. _Sorry pal, flee now, chitchat later._

Flying up the stairwell two steps at a time, Ellie shoved through the door at the top, sent it crashing against the railing…. And came to a halt in a lobby.

She sucked in greedy lungful after lungful of cool air, hands planted firmly against her knees as she bent over, eyes closed. Sweat trickled over her brow and she raised a hand to brush it off. “Jesus…” she whispered, peering behind her.

The centaur wasn’t pursuing her… she was in the clear… for now.

“Okay, time to juice up,” she grasped the bag on her back, hand moving to the zipper and….

Thin air. She was groping thin air.

“Bag? Bag?!” Her head snapped from side to side, gaze scanning her person. What… what the fuckity fuck? “Where-“ Her eyes widened, realization dawned on her.

Subway tunnel. By the entryway. She hadn’t picked it up.

She had left it behind.

_Dumbass_

“No!” Fuck, everything was in there! Her caps, her personal belongings, her extra clothes, her gear, and, most importantly, her goddamned _stimpack_ s.

“Okay, no, this is fine. Everything is going to be fine,” she began, running her fingers through her disheveled black hair. “There’s gotta be a doctor, right? Fancy schmancy place this? Has to have a doc. Has to.”

Everything ached. Her shoulder was the worst, having taken the brunt of the centaur’s first attack. The sensitive skin there still sizzled, her flesh red and inflamed. She was acutely aware of the amount of blood trickling down from the pincer holes in her calf and thigh marring the otherwise glossy tiled floor. Not to mention the indescribable goo that stuck to her jacket, or the smell wafting off of her. She was a hot mess… Better begin the search.

Ellie started forwards, steps uncoordinated and unsure as she moved to the left side of the lobby. Gentle music played in the background, a smooth jazz saxophone drawling out a solo of notes. The air was scented heavily, smelling of roses and tulips, the AC clearly on as it dried her sweat dampened skin. Chandeliers overhead were draped in crystals, twinkled in the lamplight. Twin grand staircases wound their red carpeted way up to the second level where a balcony overlooked the entire first floor. Potted plants ranging from vivid colorful flowers to tangling verdant vines to full on blooming blossom trees were pocketed along the sides of the foyer. Had she the mind for it, she would say Tempenny Tower was beautiful.

But she didn’t, so she gave literally no shits. _None_.

She pushed open the wooden paneled door to a shop labeled ‘Boutique le Chic’, clearly not a physician’s office by any means but at least someone inside could give her directions to one. The shelves within were crammed full with odds and ends: empty dusty bottles, prewar clothes that had been scrubbed clean, boxes of bobby pins, ridiculously old BlanCo Mac, and crates of ammo to name a few. There were a few pedestrians littered throughout the rows of merchandise, focus trained onto the items. Each and every single person was clad in formal wear, men wore suits and ties while ladies adorned prim skirts with ruffles and all.

Smug. That’s what she was feeling right now. These people were going to be smug.

“Almost wish the centaur would have trailed me up here,” she commented under her breath. “But then I really couldn’t ask for help, now could I?”

“Excuse me, how can I assist you?” called the woman from behind the register, as if on cue.

With a sigh of relief, Ellie began to turn towards the woman. “Yeah, hey. If you could please point me towards a doct-“

“Oh my god!”

Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, refraining from rolling her eyes. “The shock will pass, I assure you.”

“You’re a ghoul!” her perfectly red lipsticked lips were formed into a pout of surprise, batting mascara lashed eyes wide.

“Wow, amazing, you can see. Good job. Want a gold star? Now, about that doc-“

“We don’t do service with _your kind_ ,” she seethed, jabbing an accusing finger at Ellie’s chest.

Called it. “Swell. Can you tell me who does?”

“No one here. You aren’t welcome at Tempenny Tower. Leave before I call security!” By now they had attracted the attention of everyone in the Boutique. Their faces were paling, expressions mirroring that of the woman behind the counter.

“You can’t be serious. I knew you guys were racist but don’t ya think this is taking it a little bit too far?” Ellie switched her weight to her other foot. “All I want is some stimpacks and I’ll be on my way.”

“We don’t. Do service. With ghouls. Leave.” Each word was carefully articulated, venom beginning to ooze into her tone.

And the way everyone was closing in made the comfort level ratchet to zero.

“Kay, fine. I get it.”

Ellie shoved away from the register and ducked back out into the lobby. “Prissy uptight ass wipes. Should have known better.” And this, folks, is why friends weren’t something she had. Not when most people in the Wasteland reacted to her as if she had three heads and was there to abduct their children and sell them to Satan.

“It’s really not that far, maybe I can make it back to Megaton before I bleed out…” Ellie began to mentally calculate her route. “I’ll just have to avoid any raiders, scorps, deathclaws, and ferals along the way. How hard could that be?” Ah, sarcasm.

She was halfway to the main exit when a bout of commotion caught her attention.

“It’s getting away!”

“There’s a horde of them!”

“Clear the lobby!”

“CENTAUR ATTACK!!”

_Oh, for fucks sake._

Sure enough, the door she had bashed through earlier was now open once more. A rally of guards donning some heavy duty looking armor and rifles sprinted into the lobby… followed quickly by a pack of extremely aggressive centaurs.

“I knew there was more than one,” she whispered to herself.

Mass chaos ensued. Panicked screams bellowed from the balcony overhead as one of the guards, likely the head chief, started to bark commands to his lower ranking officers. Glass vases broke, shattered shards skittered across the marbled tiles. The ear splitting sound of gunfire ripped through the air, echoed off of the walls and pummeled her eardrums with a deafening roar. The gargled groans of the centaurs as they unleashed a volley of their own attacks in response was enough to send her into sensory overload.

And while a very small minuscule part of her mind told her that this was her fault and that she should assist with the defense of the tower… a much larger more rationale part of her brain cooed ‘impeccable getaway option’. And seeing as she generally favored survival, she was vouching for option number two.

And nothing but a lonely little door stood between her and freedom.

She outstretched her hand for the golden inlayed handle when one voice cut through the rest. “That’s her! That’s the _ghoul_!” She recognized that voice… the security officer from downstairs.

“She tried to harass my customers!” the woman from the Boutique added as she made her way to the grand staircase, pointing accusingly at Ellie.

_Seriously?!_

“Stop right there!”

_Uhm_ … “No?”

She twisted the handle and flung the large ornate door open, took a step outside, welcomed the unreasonably overheated air, and-

Firm hands clamped around her wrist and pulled her back in. “You’re coming with me,” sneered the officer that decided he was responsible for her capture.

“I’m leaving,” she insisted, jabbing her chin towards the front gate. “Like, right now. I get it. You don’t like ghouls. Made that super clear.”

“You caused this attack.”

“You can’t prove that,” she countered.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re a ghoul, that’s reason enough to apprehend you.”

“Come again? Right now? Aren’t there slightly more important things you could be doing?” She began to pull and twist, planting her feet.

“Knock her out if you have to!” someone directed.

“What?” she gaped. What was _WRONG_ with these people?

But before she could react, she felt a fist connect with the back of her head. She saw stars dance before her eyes. She watched as the ground toppled towards her face, her knees knocked out from underneath her.

And the world went black.


End file.
